On Being Open

Have you ever felt like crying for no reason at all? Ever been going along, doing and thinking nothing of particular importance and felt the tears rising up beneath the surface of yourself?

I can't say that this is a common occurrence for me, but it has happened several times over the past week and a half. I have wondered at the source of this feeling, this bubbling up of... something...

I've wondered at what the feeling actually is. It's as if I accidentally tapped a deep well and the feeling is just swimming... bubbling up. It doesn't really feel bad... urgent or painful... instead it feels more... like a release.

For the past two weeks I have been taking an online course on Dreaming Big called Mondo Beyondo. It has really challenged me to get back in line with the things which I already know to be true, but have over the past year let slip into a forgotten corner, through assignments, activities, community discussion and powerful validation. It has given me something that I needed in order to remember who I am and what I am capable of. It has given me the permission that I needed to be more gentle with and tolerant of myself. It has given the space and confidence that I needed to begin to open up again and be amazed at how the Universe pays me back for that trust.

So, I am glad for those tears that haven't yet made it to the surface. I'm relieved at the promise, open to the process, and look forward to the day that I will let them spill down my cheeks with the release that I have been longing for.

Dreaming Big is not something that I struggle with to be sure, but remaining open to the process of manifesting them, maintaining trust in the Universe to provide me with what I need, and believing in my own worth and unique path is something that I can use help with.

I haven't yet found the courage to post my Mondo Beyondo list, but while working it into a list of categories including being vulnerable, brave, open, flexible and trusting, I recognized that one dream (a comparably small one) was showing up in every category: Having Close Friends.

I wasn't actually surprised by this. You see, I have a lot of friends. There are many people to whom I could turn in crisis and need... but there are no people to whom I turn on a regular basis. There are none who are allowed into my daily life, my regular joys and defeats, none to whom I turn to share my common disappointments or deep fears, exciting news or profound discoveries. There is no one but family who has my home phone number and few who know things such as my birth date or that I am all but blind without my contacts.
And it is entirely my fault. You see the things listed above... the things which are utterly required for such friendships (vulnerability, trusting, openness...) these things are terrifying to me when it comes to interacting with other people.

I have spent years carefully isolating myself from such situations of openness... all the while feeling the isolation... apparently waiting for one of those people that have offered themselves freely to come bust down my door. It is a dream that I seem to wear near enough to my surface that I attract people with ease... I just completely fail to allow them the connection that I was advertising.

So, one of my first Mondo Beyondo acts of trust lies there. I am making a promise to myself and beginning to unlock the doors and ready myself to let those people in... along with each and every new love.

It's about time I learned how to use the phone again. I think I will start there.

And here's to you for all of the love, encouragement, constructive criticism, and offerings of virtual companionship that you have given over the past two years. Thank you for lessening that feeling of isolation.

xoxo

Admiration

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”
~Jack Kerouac

The Guts to Follow Your Heart

My internal navigation has always been very strong... that ability to act on my gut feelings, moment by moment and most especially in the biggest, scariest moments, has never, ever failed me. In fact, it has always been my saving grace.


My biggest success story is this: My marriage and the family that it created. There are many other stories I could tell you of times that my choices shocked, confused and frightened those around me... many other stories of times that I went on a gut feeling, rode out the fears of others, never questioned what I was doing, and came out way on top, but this one... this one is really something special.

As I think about all of the dreams that I have had, this is one that was so basic, so ingrained that I sort of missed that it was a dream at all. It's not the most exciting thing by today's standards. You see, I seem to have come into this world with one dream in mind: Love.
I had impossibly high expectations. Still do. But I never thought of it as a dream... a life goal... It was more like I simply believed this to be the point of living... a given.
But a dream is what it is and it is, in a way, my greatest achievement... not just in the overall success of what I was striving for, but in my commitment to listening to my heart... to the nearly silent whispers of the universe...

Oh, it's a bit of a scandal for sure. People quite often ask to hear the story of how Jeff and I met and it is a story that we tend to dodge with answers like, "Oh, we've known each other since we were teenagers..." that satisfy the curious with their own imaginings of high school sweetheart scenarios.
Yeah, the truth is, it wasn't like that at all.

The romance lies not in the general story, but in all of the things that would have to be outlined... the things which go unsaid, the things which most would miss completely. The romance lies not just in following your heart against all odds, but in the odds overcome as well. It comes in the fierce commitment that carried us through the bumbling, the stupidity, the failures, the trespasses, the immaturity and the utter lack of knowledge of what we were doing or where we would end up. The romance lies in the deep belief in our shared dream of love.

Because in the beginning that is all that it was. A dream.
A hope.
A belief.
A strong gut feeling that was making a promise.

When Jeff and I began our life together, sharing a one room furnished apartment in North Dallas, I was 19 years old, and Jeff was 22.

We barely knew each other.

On August 8th, 1999 I moved in with Jeff. On August 8th, 1999 I ended a marriage, my marriage, that lasted exactly one month. The marriage? It was a thing that I simply had to do. A thing for which I knew the ending before it began. A thing which I knew would be looked back on as a moment. Just a moment that led to true love.

I knew that true love to be Jeff. I don't know how I knew. There certainly weren't any outward signs saying "Lookee here! This is the one!" Heh. No, all outward signs, the ones horrifying those around me, said something more to the effect of "Are you freaking mad?".

I knew I wasn't though. I knew it. With my whole being and I couldn't have told anyone how. I knew that I would make no apologies and have no regrets for this leap of faith.

Last night as I sat folding diapers on the bed, in my ponytail and mismatched pajamas, Jeff said to me, "You're so beautiful. No really, I feel like the luckiest, freaking luckiest, man alive. Did I tell you I love you today?"

"Mmm," I replied, "you did" and I didn't blush, or look up from my folding.

It's funny how quickly we can take our dreams come true for granted. You see, he did tell me something like that already that day because each and every day, for so long I can't remember when it began, he has told me. And not in a passing, habitual way either. In a way that makes it understood that he's feeling it right now, as if it he hasn't been looking at me every single day for 11 years.

"No, Aim, really, thank you for seeing something in me when there was so little to see. I know I've been an ass, I want you to know that I know, and that I see you and all the forgiveness and love that you have been to me."

I looked up here. I probably blushed too. The words are wonderful, and the truth is that they are a daily occurrence in my life. It's an amazing, honest to god fairytale. Stuff so good it's what the greatest art of our species is about. It's a dream come true, a fantasy realized, and leap that succeeded.

And it's so messy. It's so messy it is poignantly beautiful. Like all other dreams worth having, we work really hard at it. We recommit every single day. Sometimes several times a day.
After 11 years, we are still busting ass to be our best, to forgive, to forget, to understand, to communicate, to admit failure, fuck ups and unconscious habits. And it's amazing. There is nothing that has ever been so worth it. It's perfect in all of it's disasters. Like everyone else, we still hurt each other. We still forget. We still get mad and misunderstand. We still blow it like first rate idiots. The elegance, the grace, lies in what we do about all of those messy moments. The astounding, rarely seen beauty comes in that utter inability to forget what we really are... to forget that Love that we believe in.

And so, at the end of every single day, I curl around one of our sleeping babies, and we touch hands and toes in the bed and we know, without saying, what we mean... and what we mean is too big for words. It can only be felt.
It's a dream come true... a feeling followed... a gut instinct so right.

Here's to following your dreams wherever and however they take you.

Shhhhh..... I'm Making Space....

As one of my lessons in my Mondo Beyondo course I am creating space in my life by temporarily getting rid of something that sucks time, drains or burdens me.

Being that the house is empty of all extra items and the TV has been gone for 5 years... I knew exactly what had to be cleared out... the computer.

While I try keep my time online focused on productive things, over the years the lines have become a little blurred. I deleted my Facebook account (yes, it is possible!) several months ago, but have gotten sucked into the networking and community aspect of Twitter, the two blogs that I used to follow seem to have blossomed into too many, and interesting links that come by way of email and tweets can suck time like nothing else. While reading about educating my children, the state of our food supply, gardening, healing, etc are all noble and worthwhile things, they are not things which need to take up my time on a daily basis.

So, here's to a week of silence... shutting out the world wide buzz and creating a little space for more living...

I'll see you again in a week...

xoxo

The Pursuit of Happiness May Not Lead You To Crate & Barrel

"Then comes the fourth obstacle: the fear of realizing the dream for which we fought all our lives.
Oscar Wilde said: 'Each man kills the thing he loves.' And it's true. The mere possibility of getting what we want fills the soul of the ordinary person with guilt. We look around at all those who have failed to get what they want and feel that we do not deserve to get what we want either." ~ The Alchemist

This quote feels entirely too real, to familiar and too senseless to me. I'm removing this ridiculous agreement from my being... no matter how many attempts it takes.


I have an idea, a dream, a vision, if you will... A hope for a country who knows and understands... and assumes... the promises of the Constitution, the Declaration and the Bill of Rights...
A country which expects, demands and strives for health, happiness and freedom! I think we called it Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness once.

It's an idea so great that we've been exporting this American Dream to the rest of the world quite prolifically. It's too sad that we don't seem to know what it means or feels like anymore.

From where I stand I can't see these things in practice. I can see a lot of illness, a striving for a dream which seems to be out of reach for so many - no matter how they work.

I can see depression instead of happiness. Sadness so rampant that we consider it normal to need therapy and drugs just to get by. Depression and angst fill the youth, the music, the art... the lives of the people falling through the cracks that seem to be so appreciable now.

I see it more clearly than ever because for the first time in my life I am not suffering those things anymore.

The American Dream seems within my grasp. I can see a clear and simple path for the people. I see change from the ground up. Happiness, health, life, freedom, time, spirituality and hobbies even! I see it all, right there for the taking, and I want to share the secret. Only, it isn't a secret at all. It's simply a belief (and a Right!!) that we forgot that we had!

I have ideas which make people weep at the thought of them, a literal plan of action and I want to impart them to you because I think you will believe in them too.

I am in the process of breaking myself open... blowing away the fears that bind me... and consciously stepping back onto the path that has been in front of me all along.

Weeeeeee!

This might be a slightly bumpy ride ;-)

Fun though....

xoxox

Ummm....

Oh, Mother Nature, it is a good thing your so beautiful... I'll go ahead and consider that week of 55 degree snow melting sun a sweet gift rather than considering you a cruel tease on account of the Many. Thick. Layers. of snow you've been burrying us under this week...

I won't mention that little wind gust that knocked us down into the snow as we so sweetly hauled our groceries down to the cabin in a sled without complaining... ahem...

Mostly, Mother Nature, I just want you to release that pile of wood you've claimed cause...burrrrrrrr... when you've just removed the snow from every crevice of your now wet clothes, a little fire to warm your not complaining cold bones in front of would be nice.

Jus sayin...

Good Day Sunshine!

West Texas 6/09

Madison, Virginia 5/09

Taos, NM 6/09

Living in the RV was the most structured time in our lives. Everyday had a flow and was steeped in ritual. We woke with the sun and snuggled together on our little sofa, still covered in blankets from the night before, while Jeff made tea a couple of feet away in the kitchenette. The sun would stream through the cracks in the still closed curtains and our breath hung in the chilly morning air. The sound of the water boiling on the stove and the clink of the mugs is burned into my memory along with these visuals. The steamy hot, honey sweetened tea was such a treat as we allowed ourselves to wake up slowly and quietly. Though they were just 5 and 1 years old Quinn and Nichola seemed to savor this ritual in the same quiet way that we did. Something so sweet about the energy of ritual in close quarters... Something priceless about living our lives as one, rather than a series of schedule overlaps...

Lately our days have been getting farther and farther from these shared moments. It's as if the mere existence of more space kills the sweet vibe and the synchronicity of a family.
Quinn is up first, Nichola about an hour later, Jeff with Nichola and shortly there after Simone joins them. With Simone in the sling Jeff prepares breakfast for the kids; usually Irish oats and eggs, while I try to catch some of the deep sleep that eludes a mother of an infant, but is utterly necessary to a person susceptible to Fibromyalgia.
Though I am trying to take measures to protect my health, I feel like I'm completely out of sync. I am simply a much happier, more productive person when I wake up with the sun... or more truly, just before it.

Reading Boho Girls post about her morning yerba mate ritual reminded me of all of these things and how I miss them. Beginning tomorrow I am on a mission to return structure and ritual to our lives... starting with our morning mugs of sweet steamy tea.

One of my favorites is rooibos with a bit of vanilla and cinnamon. What's yours?

Can Ya Dig It, Baby?

Here in the mountains, at about 8200 ft, we're buried under snow as deep as my waist, but 1000 ft down in town there's no snow and a nice warm sun. It's so nice to be able to enjoy the magical, beautiful mountains and still get all the sun of the Southwest. By the time we make it 10 minutes down the road we are all stripping off our coats and hats for a warm trip when we get to town.

It's such a lovely town too. At the store today Quinn talked to 5 of his friends (and we their parents) and we met several others that we know; as is always the case here. You chat with the people you know (and the one's you're just meeting) at the store, say good-bye, then see them 15 minutes later at the post office, and again at the library. We know all of the employees at all of the places we frequent (swapping info, numbers and SCOBYs) and they know us. There is an amazing sense of community here... rather like a modern day Pleasantville. We love it.

Around the cabin we're working through our garden, greenhouse, poultry and dairy plans. We have a lot of obstacles to overcome. As one of the farmers at the market put it: If you can farm in the canyon you can farm anywhere. Not only are we dealing with arid conditions, but also weekly summer hail storms, near daily thunderstorms, intense sun due to high elevation, freezing nights throughout our short growing season and regular wind gusts of up to 45 mph. If that isn't enough to make you throw in the towel, there are still the coyotes, elk, dear, bears, chipmunks, crows and wildcats.

Now wait! There's more! We're also subject to very strict rules imposed by the Land Trust contract. We cannot so much as put a fence around our garden without submitting a written request (including plans) and obtaining their approval. We need to fence the garden, and build a chicken coop/goat house, and surround it with a fence capable of at least making the coyotes, bear and wildcats think about it before eating said livestock. We also have to figure out which means of protecting the garden from all aforementioned threats is most likely to recieve Land Trust approval . Aaaand, we need a woodshed so that next year we don't have to spend an hour shoveling our way down to the woodpile, an hour hacking logs out of the frozen pile and another 30 minutes hauling it up to the house... just to do it over again three days later. Yeah, a woodshed would be nice :-p

And we need to figure it all out now because it's time we begin ordering chicks and starting seeds. Oy!

And people thought we were crazy for wanting to homestead in Vermont!

Heh.

But, alas, it is life's challenges that make it worth living, and I'll take these over traffic, commutes, pollution, crime, poor water quality, lines, crowds and the isolation of our former city life any day.